


Something You Lack

by Electra_XT



Series: praise kink all the way down [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Sibling Incest, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 14:03:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20210965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Electra_XT/pseuds/Electra_XT
Summary: Five folded his arms over his chest. Diego rolled his eyes, got up, and grabbed a pen and old napkin from his desk and started scribbling, until he clicked the pen shut and shoved the napkin in Five’s face.NOT TALKING“Clearly,” Five said. “Why?”Diego gave him a look.





	Something You Lack

**Author's Note:**

> Title from “Stutter” by Elastica.
> 
> Thank you to bismuthBallistics for the spontaneous and effective late-night Discord beta, and as always, thank you to achilleees for the enabling <3

“I remember when you used to complain about kneeling on this floor,” Diego said, winding a hand into Five’s hair.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed. Between his spread legs, Five’s face was pressed deep into him and he had his cock in his mouth. The floor under him really wasn’t too bad, to be honest. The boiler room’s temperature fluctuated by region: cold in the corners, oppressively warm by the bed near the boiler. (The first time Five had seen Diego take off his shirt to sleep, he’d assumed he was simply showing off, but apparently that was business as usual when a person slept next to an enormous heater. Not that Five was complaining, of course.) But right here, the temperature was perfect, and as Five hollowed his cheeks to take Diego’s cock in deeper, he didn’t mind the ache in his knees.

“I remember you came in here and you said,” Diego said, shifting his legs so Five could lean in further between them, “‘There is no way I am kneeling on concrete for more than ten seconds to give you a blowjob.”

Five rolled his eyes, mouth full.

“You remember what happened next, sweetheart? ‘Cause I do. I laid you down on this bed, fucked you til you were _moaning—_ yeah, don’t try to deny it, baby, you were so fucking into it, I saw you squirming around on th-the bed—”

Five frowned.

“Cryin’ into the pillow for me, as pretty as anything, huh?”

Diego’s voice was fine. He must have imagined it. Five ran his tongue along the underside of Diego’s cock and felt gratified to hear Diego’s breath hitch above him.

“And then the next time, sweetheart, do you remember what you did?”

Five hummed around his cock.

“I remember I got one hand on the collar of your shirt and you were down, sweet thing, just like that. I asked you, I told you you didn’t have to get down for me like that, and you know what you said, angel? You told me I’d be an idiot to look a gift horse in the mouth and then you— and then you were goin’ at the front of my pants like y-you w-were trying t-t-to—”

Five’s scalp prickled as Diego twisted his hand into his hair.

“You w-w-w—” Diego cleared his throat. “You w— you w—”

“Y—” Diego stopped, taking a deep breath.

Five rested his unoccupied hand on Diego’s thigh.

Diego went still.

Five pulled back and wiped his mouth. “What’s going on?”

Silence from Diego. He shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter to me,” Five said.

Closing his eyes, Diego pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Let me finish you off,” Five said, sitting back. His knees popped. Ordinarily Diego would have jumped on the opportunity to tease Five about being an old man, but Diego shook his head again, standing up, walking away from him.

“You’re acting like a child,” Five said, hoisting himself to his feet. “Come back.”

He hated how plaintive his voice sounded. His mouth still felt thick from Diego’s cock and he cleared his throat, desperately wishing Diego would turn back around. It was one thing to kneel between Diego’s legs and mouth at his cock, feel every tremor of Diego’s body and run his tongue along his cock until he came, and another matter entirely to grovel.

Diego looked back at him for a single, unreadable moment, and then he punched the wall. 

There was a nasty crack against the concrete and Five teleported to his side in an instant. “What the hell are you thinking?” he said. He grabbed Diego’s hand and Diego hissed with pain. “Christ. And they said I’m the one stuck at thirteen. Have you never, ever once consulted your mind before throwing a punch?”

Diego yanked his hand away from him.

“I’m sure you’re feeling better now,” Five said acidly.

Diego bared his teeth. Five watched, wordless, as Diego turned and crouched down in front of the freezer, pulling out what Five presumed to be an ice pack. He shut the door and stood up, holding the ice against his hand, but he didn’t turn back around.

It would all get better in the morning. It had to.

“If you’re not going to talk to me, I’m going to bed,” Five said, with perhaps a little more fake bravado than strictly necessary.

It _had_ to.

Five woke up with his face against Diego’s chest.

He rolled to the side, extracting himself from Diego’s arm. Without the natural light, the boiler room was just as dark in the morning as it was at night. Five teleported to the side of the room, landing a little unsteadily in the dark, but he groped around on the floor and found his shirt and pants from last night and pulled them on. He paused, and then he scooped up Diego’s car keys before turning and vanishing, reappearing outside the door.

It felt strangely illicit to walk through the gym before it opened. The bags hung from the ceiling, completely still, like cuts of meat in a butcher shop. The whole place smelled like feet. Five remembered vividly the first night he and Diego had stumbled back here— the place hadn’t quite been closed, come to think of it, which in retrospect was moderately embarrassing. He did remember Diego’s hands all over him, _c’mon, down to the basement,_ as some tired woman in a sports bra was trying to get some late night pounding done on the heavy bag. At the time, he’d been too distracted to feel sheepish. Little could short-circuit his brain like Diego’s hands, Diego’s arm slipping around his waist, Diego’s lips brushing against his cheekbone.

Five got in the car and slammed the door shut. He stepped on the brake and turned the key in the ignition and then he was pulling out of the parking space, navigating Diego’s car into the early morning street. Last night had left him unsettled, dissatisfaction itching under his skin, but perhaps a cup of coffee would put a dent in it. And perhaps he could get some for Diego, too. Five had never been particularly good at making amends.

When Five appeared in Diego’s bedroom holding two cups of coffee, the light was on and Diego was dressed. His mouth was set in a hard line.

“Cream and sugar,” Five said, setting one steaming cup on the bedside table.

Diego inclined his head at him and reached over to take a sip.

Five cleared his throat. “I know that’s how you take it.”

Silence.

“Are you physically all right?” Five said.

Diego nodded, once, curtly. Five folded his arms over his chest. Diego rolled his eyes, got up, and grabbed a pen and old napkin from his desk and started scribbling, until he clicked the pen shut and shoved the napkin in Five’s face.

_NOT TALKING_

“Clearly,” Five said. “Why?”

Diego gave him a look.

“I don’t know what that means,” Five said. “You’re going to have to use your words.”

Nothing.

“I genuinely just saw you using a pen and paper.”

Five watched as Diego picked up the pen, and he waited, resisting the urge to tap his foot on the floor, as Diego wrote. Eventually, Diego handed him the napkin.

_Just don’t feel like it. I’ll work it out. There’s milk and eggs in the fridge if you want to eat. I’m heading out. Could give you a ride home but you’ll probably want to teleport or some shit._

“Where are you going?” Five said.

Diego grabbed the napkin back.

_Out._

“You aren’t going to tell me?” Five said. He winced. He didn’t mean to sound whiny. Diego clapped his shoulder, as if that were an answer, and Five turned, watching as Diego picked up a shirt from the floor and tugged it over his head. It was peculiarly endearing to watch him get dressed. After pulling on his pants and scavenging some socks, Diego grabbed his knife harness and slid it over his head, buckling it across his chest, and Five swallowed, because he couldn’t not react to that, even now, but now wasn’t the time. He could read the tension in the set of Diego’s shoulders.

“I’ll have a ride back to the Academy,” Five said, “talking or not.”

“What happens if you teleport directly into another person?” Klaus said, sitting down next to Five on the sofa. He was holding a ball of yarn and two disturbingly long knitting needles.

“That doesn’t happen,” Five said, shifting away from him.

“Yeah, but what if it did?”

“It wouldn’t,” Five said. “Are those regular knitting needles?”

“How do you know what spot to teleport into?”

Five frowned. “Are you planning to try spatial jumping any time soon?”

“I woke up in the middle of the night last night,” Klaus said, tying a little knot onto one of his knitting needles. Or whatever they were. Five had intense doubts. “And I was like, whoa. What if Five showed up in my body right now?”

“I assure you there is no chance of that happening,” Five said.

“Really?”

Five sighed. He should have known better than to try to have peace and quiet in public. He folded the page of his book down into a crisp crease and he closed the cover. “Do you actually want to know how the jumping works?”

“Yeah,” Klaus said, “that’s what I’ve been trying to get you to tell me all this time.”

“All right,” Five said. He frowned. It was an interesting challenge, trying to explain this to another person. “When I think about jumping, it’s like— I don’t know if you swim, but I assume it’s akin to when you take a deep breath before diving into the water. It’s hard to exactly put into words, but I envision the target, and there’s a fair amount of mental math involved to—”

“Are you and Diego together-together or is it just sex?”

Five went still.

“It’s kind of personal, but as I said,” Klaus said, stretching, “I woke up in the middle of the night, and I was curious.”

Five coughed. “We’re together.”

“Oh, excellent,” Klaus said. “You two rascals really deserve each other.”

“If that’s a compliment, then thank you,” Five said.

“So tell me what it’s like,” Klaus said. “He’s amazing in bed, obviously.”

“How would you possibly know?” Five said.

“Have you seen the man?” Klaus said, leaning forward. He clapped his hands with every word. “Have? You? Seen? The? Man?”

“I feel the need to remind you that I am the one involved with Diego,” Five said. “I have seen the man.” Often. Naked. But he’d let Klaus have a crisis over that for himself.

“God, you don’t have to rub it in my face,” Klaus said. He held up one finger. “I’ll have you know I engaged in sexual activity with Diego once.”

“Once,” Five said, leaning back on the sofa.

“Yeah,” Klaus said mournfully. “We were seventeen.”

“Do tell,” Five said. It was almost a perverse need to hear; he knew he was terribly possessive, and Diego himself had made fun of him for it. Whenever they went to a bar to do nothing and people-watch until they got bored, someone would inevitably try to hit on Diego, and before Five could jump on them, Diego would catch him with the hand that wasn’t holding his drink. _Hold the fuck up, sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere._

Diego’s voice in his ear, over the static of the crowd.

“And he was a _mess,”_ Klaus said, picking up his legs and folding them up onto the sofa. “I have a sneaking suspicion that thoughts of Luther were involved on his part. Remember how he used to—”

“I don’t remember,” Five said curtly.

“Oh,” Klaus said, his face falling. “I forgot you missed out on the end half of our communal childhood.”

“Yes. Continue.”

“Well, Diego was crazy,” Klaus said. “Totally macho, hormonal mess. I swear that boy ran on a combustion engine of testosterone and insecurity. But he was soooo hot, too. Picture Diego, but younger.”

Five frowned.

“When Luther got with Allison, he got so mad. And the less wise members of the family thought he was heterosexual— I know, I know!— so a bunch of them were expecting him to get with Vanya, but I knew better. I mean, like I said, I’m pretty sure he was slobbering after Luther. And I was watching him, because… you know. _You_ of all people would know. So when he showed up at my door at midnight, I can’t say I was surprised, but I did nearly come in my Academy pajama pants right there.”

“Right,” Five said.”

“And he said, ‘Wanna fuck?’”

“I don’t believe you,” Five said.

“Hand to God,” Klaus said, clasping a hand over his chest. “Our brother Diego Hargreeves, standing before me at the tender age of sixteen, hit me up for a booty call in the middle of the night.”

“And I presume you let him in,” Five said.

“I did,” Klaus said. He waggled his eyebrows.

“Of course,” Five said, unimpressed.

“Essentially I dropped my pants and let him just rail me into my twin bed mattress.”

“Right,” Five said. “And what happened next?”

“Well, before that I sucked his dick.”

“I said _after.”_

“He gave me a handjob. Very businesslike, trim and repressed. But it did hit the spot. He was all sweaty, too.”

“After all the sex,” Five said, “what happened?”

“Oh,” Klaus said. “Well, he said, ‘How’d I do?’”

Five looked up at him. “Really?”

“Honest,” Klaus said.

“And I presume you sang his praises.”

“I told him I’d had better.”

Five stared.

“Fine, it was a lie, fine,” Klaus said. “God. But I wasn’t about to feed that massive, throbbing ego of his, you know?”

“So what did he do after you told him that he didn’t measure up to your previous sexual partners?” Five said.

“This weird thing happened,” Klaus said. “Wow. I haven’t thought about this is a while. He sort of went… I don’t know how to explain this, but his jaw went all tight or something.”

“Elaborate,” Five said.

“How am I supposed to remember?” Klaus said. “It was more than ten years ago!”

“Klaus,” Five said, “I have lived thirty years longer than you have. I don’t have sympathy for this.”

“Well, he left,” Klaus said.

“His jaw went tight and then he left?”

“Yeah, yeah. Exactly.”

“Did he say anything?” Five said.

Klaus picked up one long knitting needle and twirled it in his hands like a baton. Five watched as the light reflected off the thin metal.

“You know,” Klaus said, “I don’t think he did.”

Five was waiting on the bed in Diego’s room, reading the newspaper, when Diego came back. Usually, when he heard the key turning in the door, he knew he was about to get hit with Diego’s wiseass comments, a kiss on the cheek or a smack on the ass, maybe, but with Diego resolutely mute, he’d tamped down his hopes.

When Diego opened the door, Five cleared his throat. Diego looked down at him and grinned crookedly, giving him a mock-salute as he locked the door behind him. 

“You know,” Five said, “I don’t think there’s such thing as waiting out a stutter.”

Diego raised his eyebrows.

“Simply an observation,” Five said, stretching and getting up to walk over to him. “How’s that hand of yours?”

Diego held it up to show him. The bruising had gone down significantly, and Five reached out his hand for it. Diego let him examine it, turning over his bandaged hand, and when he lifted it up, he kissed Diego’s bruised knuckles. It still felt odd to be so intimate with him. He was in his element when Diego was jerking him off or pounding into him, murmuring terms of endearment into his ear— _yeah, that’s it, sweetheart, so fuckin’ pretty for me._ And that was intimate, plenty intimate, but there was still something uncertain about initiating the contact, being the one to cup Diego’s jaw and kiss him or entreat him to sex.

“If you’re not going to use your mouth to talk,” Five said, his touch lingering on Diego’s hand, “I’m sure I could find another use for it.”

Diego raised his eyebrows.

“Essentially what I’m saying is that I work with what I get,” Five said.

If Diego truly wasn’t in the mood for sex, he’d shake his head. Five spread his legs, just a tad. 

Diego swallowed.

Interesting.

Five spread his legs a little more, and Diego dropped to his knees.

_Interesting._

“Been a while since I last gave head,” Diego said, lying on the bed.

Five stopped in the doorway, toothbrush in his hand.

“Yeah, I know,” Diego said. He cracked his knuckles. “I was being a dick.”

“I’d have thought the breaking of a vow of silence would be more ceremonial,” Five said. He set his toothbrush and toothpaste down. 

“I was working through some shit,” Diego said.

“Care to enlighten me?” Five said.

“Nah.”

Five gave him an unimpressed look.

Diego cracked his knuckles again. “Look, man, I said I’m sorry. Can we be done with it?”

“You didn’t, actually,” Five said, turning away to unbutton his shirt.

“Well,” Diego said, “I’m sorry.”

He enunciated every syllable. Five paused in his unbuttoning to breathe, look out evenly at the wall, because Diego was being a real pain in the ass now, and not in a fun way.

“You’re being a real pain in the ass right now, and not in the fun way,” he said.

Diego didn’t say anything. Five finished unbuttoning his shirt and shucked it off, leaving him in only his undershirt. Normally, this would be when Diego would sidle over to him and slide his hand under the fabric to palm Five’s surprisingly lean stomach— _damn, baby, you’re keeping it tight, aren’t you?—_ and try to get Five to take the undershirt off. Five always batted his hands away, but it felt strange to not have to do so, like stepping down on the floor when you expected another stair.

“Come here,” Diego said.

Five folded up his shirt and laid it down where he could find it in the morning, and then he crawled into the bed. He let Diego tow him closer against his body, resting his head against Diego’s chest. He always ended up back here, didn’t he? Diego threaded one hand into Five’s hair.

“You need a haircut,” he said.

“Thank you for your input,” Five said.

Diego chuckled. Five could feel the reverberations of his laugh in his chest.

“Your stutter,” Five said.

Diego’s hand went still. Five could swear he could feel the tension in Diego’s chest.

“Yeah,” Diego said, “it’s— I don’t know, man. Doesn’t happen often these days.”

“Of course,” Five said.

“You remember when I was a kid, right?”

“I do,” Five said.

“It’s never gotten that bad again or anything.”

Missions delayed, tension in the hallway, Diego stalking out of his room silent and red-eyed. Nobody ever talked about it. Luther tried to, once, laying a hand on Diego’s shoulder and offering his ten-year-old encouragement, but he’d gotten a punch in the jaw for his efforts.

“Good,” Five said. He cleared his throat. “Did it last for long after we turned thirteen?”

“Nah,” Diego said. “Gone by the time we hit fifteen, basically.”

“Not completely, apparently,” Five said.

Diego resumed stroking his fingers through Five’s hair, not quite scratching his scalp. “Came back when I was in the police academy.”

“Did it?” Five said.

“If you tell anyone about any of this I’m gonna be pissed.”

“I wouldn’t,” Five said. “You know I can keep a secret, Diego.”

“Good,” Diego said. “Age of, what, nineteen? I was a damn mess. Hated everyone, hated Dad, hated myself, went out drinking with my buddies from the academy— not the Academy academy— and if I’d had a shit day and a few too many at the bar, I couldn’t fucking talk.”

Five was silent, turning the image over in his mind.

“Punched a guy’s teeth out once when he made fun of me.”

“What a surprise,” Five said.

“Yeah, but you wanna know something?”

Five nodded against his chest.

“Girls went crazy for it.” 

“Did they, now?”

“They said it was cute,” Diego said. “Which I hated, but it got me all the pussy I wanted, so double-edged sword.”

“Fascinating,” Five said.

“That sarcasm?”

“Not particularly,” Five said. “But I find myself surprised that you’d let people fawn over you like that.”

“Believe me, I got tired of it,” Diego said. “So I stopped drinking, told everyone I was on a health kick, actually ended up on a health kick, got kicked out of the academy, started boxing, got way too into boxing, averted the apocalypse, started fucking my brother—”

“I’m familiar with that part of the story,” Five said quickly, but he couldn’t deny his tiny, ridiculous glow of pride. “And all that time, no stuttering?”

“Nope,” Diego said.

“Until Saturday,” Five said.

“Yeah.”

Five was silent, thinking.

“Don’t try to diagnose me or some shit,” Diego said. “I can handle myself.”

“Clearly,” Five said. “You wouldn’t do anything irrational like, say, hurl your fist into a wall and then refuse to talk to anyone for two days.”

“Two and a half, actually,” Diego said.

“I don’t exactly know what you’re trying to prove with that.”

“Look, I didn’t mean to be an asshole,” Diego said.

“I know,” Five said. “You were, though.”

Diego sighed.

“I don’t like arguments,” Five said. “I don’t like the silent treatment. If you do this again, expect me to lose my compunctions about disappearing in the middle of a conversation.”

“All right, I get it,” Diego said. “I promise I’ll work it out, sweetheart.”

“I have faith in you,” Five said.

Diego was silent for a moment. Five could feel his chest moving as he breathed.

“The more I think about it, the more it’s gonna happen,” Diego said.

“So don’t think about it,” Five said. “And if it happens—”

“It doesn’t need to be a thing we talk about,” Diego said.

Five pursed his lips. He would be a hypocrite, he supposed, to tell Diego off about holding back his feelings. And he was no armchair psychologist. But something in the set of Diego’s jaw felt off, a slight misstep, a wound healing itself a little bit wrong, and it troubled him to think of a fissure deepening.

“What time is it?” Diego said.

“Do I look like I’m wearing a watch?” Five said.

“Isn’t time your superpower?”

“Traveling through time,” Five said, “not telling it.”

“I got shit to do in the morning,” Diego said, shifting Five off him and leaning over to the nightstand to check the alarm clock. “Yeah, I’m going to sleep. Stay up with the light on if you want.”

“I’ll sleep,” Five said. He yawned. “I suppose you expect me to get up and turn off the light?”

“Nah, check it,” Diego said, and he picked up a tennis ball from the nightstand and threw it at the light switch. The room went dark.

“We’re good, right?” Diego said, mattress shifting as he settled back.

“We are,” Five said, and if a smile crept across his face when Diego dropped a kiss on his forehead, it was too dark for anyone to tell.

The next day, Five parted ways with Diego. He ran some errands, and sent some letters, did some calculations to see if he could extend his jumping range, and then wandered back to the Academy. Diego always shook his head when Five mentioned that he was living there.

“You’re crazy, man,” he always said. “You could not pay me enough to go back to that shithole.”

Five always replied that he was sure that someone could name a price that would make Diego crack. But Diego insisted that he hated the Academy, wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole, which was why when Five walked down to the kitchen with the intention of swiping a banana and then retiring to his room, he stopped in his tracks.

“You think the bandages are going to help? I’ve been putting ice on it every day.”

“Well,” Grace’s voice said, “I’m glad for that, at least. It’s a nasty bruise, dear. How did you get it?”

Five went still.

“Got hit against a wall,” Diego’s voice said. Five pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. 

“It must have been quite a wall.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mom.”

“I’m sure my boy is smart enough to think better than to try to punch through concrete,” Grace said, and then there was a pause and a small noise. Five had the sudden, clear image of Grace kissing Diego’s bruised knuckles. “There we go. All better.”

“Can I get your advice on something?”

Five should leave now.

“Of course,” Grace said. “That’s what I’m here for.”

“I got the stutter back,” Diego said. His voice sounded gentle, a little uncertain; a tone he saved only for Grace.

“Did you, dear?” Grace said.

“Yeah. And I haven’t talked to anyone in like two days.”

“Whyever not?”

“‘Cause I don’t want to stutter.”

“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think, Diego, dear. You aren’t stuttering when you’re talking to me.”

“Yeah, Mom, the circumstances were different.”

“Different how?”

“I was, uh,” Diego said, “exerting myself a little more.”

“I see,” Grace said. Five hoped she didn’t truly understand. “And has it happened again since?”

“Nah. Hasn’t come up.”

“Darling, it would be silly for you to avoid exercising over a little stutter.”

“I’m not avoiding exercising, Mom, I swear.”

“Are you sure?”

“Do I _look_ like I’m not working out?”

“You look very handsome, dear.”

“Yeah, so exercising’s not the problem. It’s… I don’t wanna deal with this sh—”

“Language, dear.”

“Sorry. I don’t wanna deal with this _stuff_ anymore. You know I worked my ass off—”

“Diego.”

“Sorry,” Diego said. Five heard him take a deep breath. “You remember how long it took to get rid of it, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.”

“I’m a grown man,” Diego said. “I got a life, a job, I moved out, and… no way am I gonna be that kid in front of the mirror again. You know?”

“Of course.”

“I gotta get it under control. It should be nothing.”

“Silly,” Grace said. “Nobody gets to choose what’s tricky.”

“Yeah, but I gotta get over this. You know how it is.”

“Don’t force it, darling. And remember what I always tell you, Diego. Take a deep breath, and picture the word in your mind.”

“Of course, Mom,” Diego said. “I never forgot it.”

“Good,” Grace said. “I wouldn’t want you to be sad, silly.”

“I’m not sad.”

“Well, you’re not smiling.”

“Hey, don’t worry about me. I’m doing my best.”

“Have you considered looking for a partner, dear? You know, if you were going steady with someone, you might smile a little more.”

“Not an issue,” Diego said quickly. It made Five’s stomach twist, strange and surprisingly earnest, to instinctively know that he was the subject of Diego’s mind. 

“Well, I’d hate for you to be lonely.”

“I’m good. I promise. How are you, Mom? You lonely?”

“How could I be lonely?” Grace said. Five could practically hear her effortless smile. “I have all of you back to visit me.”

Five teleported out of the hallway before he could listen to their hug.

At this point, when Five appeared in the gym, Al only ever gave him a single weary look before pointing him to Diego. Five strolled through the gym, looking around until he recognized Diego’s bare back as he worked at the bag, hitting it rapid-fire with his good hand. He leaned on a column, watching. Diego must have heard him walking, because he turned around, leaving the bag rattling on the chain.

“Look who’s here to ogle me,” Diego said.

“Your masculine charisma never fails to impress,” Five said dryly. “But that’s not why I came.”

“Why’d you come, then?” Diego said. “You want to take a turn on the bags?”

“You know I don’t do hand-to-hand.”

“It is adorable that you think you can teleport your ass out of any situation.”

“You know you don’t need to be perfect, right?” Five said. “You do know that?”

Diego looked at him, unreadable.

Five waited.

“Wow,” Diego said. “You’re very inspiring. You should write that shit down, sell it on a calendar.”

“But you do know that,” Five said. “Right?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, I know,” Diego said. “I don’t need the platitudes.”

“Good,” Five said. He let his eyes wander to Diego’s bare torso, his muscled legs. He caught sight of Diego’s water bottle sitting on the floor. “You should drink more water.”

“I’m a grown-ass man,” Diego said. “I don’t need you to tell me to drink more water.”

“Drink the water.”

Diego threw him a long, suspicious look. Five raised an eyebrow. Diego raised his hands in defeat and picked up the water bottle, taking a long, ostentatious drink from it, and Five leaned back and made no secret of the way he watched his jaw, the exposed column of his throat.

“You happy now?” Diego said, bringing it down and wiping his mouth. “Am I good?”

“Very good,” Five said, and he moved a little closer, letting his fingers graze against Diego’s arm, before he disappeared.

When Five retired to his room after the gym with more thoughts in his mind than he could handle, his hand was reaching down his pants in an instant.

There were too many variables. Five closed his eyes and gripped his cock. Too many thoughts grabbing at his mind: the single-minded drive Diego had at the punching bag; the way he habitually cracked his knuckles. His dick throbbed. He was possessive and aggressive and he wanted Diego on his knees for him again, looking up at him, and he wanted to cup his fingers around Diego’s jaw and tilt his face upward. His new body was lithe and strong, and he’d been meaning to truly take it for a spin. He wanted to wrap his fingers around Diego’s wrist.

_You happy now? Am I good?_

Five shuddered. He was moving his hand in earnest now. He’d catalogued every way Diego made him light up, every trick he used to drive Five crazy— blatantly looking Five up and down in public, slinging an arm around him, leaning down and whispering in his ear. Calling him sweetheart. Five wasn’t the type to go all in on endearments— far from it— but he couldn’t help but buck his hips when he thought about Diego’s particular gentle voice, the open set of his face, eyebrows raised, mouth parted. He wanted Diego to dissolve, to descend into the place where his brain only answered to lust and need. Five bit his tongue and tightened his grip. Harder, faster. Diego on his knees for him. Diego bowing his head, ceding control—

Five’s orgasm snuck up on him unexpectedly, and he came over his fist, mind still caught on Diego, perfect for him, letting go for once in his life.

Diego always called him a menace. Maybe it was time to prove him right.

“Here,” Five said, appearing in Diego’s room as soon as Diego got off work. He’d timed it perfectly. “I found you an actual cold compress.”

“It’s healing,” Diego said. “I don’t need a cold compress.”

“I’m reasonably sure that that’s not how the healing process works.”

Diego threw him a look. “I said I’m healing. It’s fine.”

“Putting ice on it is what’s letting it heal,” Five said. “Are you really that much of a moron?”

“Yeah, asshole, I told you I put ice on it already.”

“But you need to _keep the ice on it,”_ Five said. “It’s like— when you’re having sex, and you tell your partner you’re about to come, would you want them to stop doing what they’re doing?”

“That’s an analogy that says more about your perv mindset than it does about this current situation,” Diego said, heading over the the freezer and crouching down in front of it. Five admired the view of his ass. “Also, I’ve still got ice in here, so no thank you.”

“This is reusable,” Five said, holding out the compress. “You won’t have to drive to the convenience store for crushed ice and stuff it in the same leaking plastic bag you’ve been using all week.”

Diego raised his eyebrows.

“But if you’d rather mindlessly inconvenience yourself to no gain for the sake of proving me wrong, feel free to do that instead.”

“What’s gotten into you?” Diego said, taking it from him. “First you’re staring me down in the gym and telling me to hydrate or some shit, and now you’re trying to play Mom with my hand?”

“Do you think that anyone doing anything for you ever is playing Mom?” Five said. “Do you actually, genuinely think that?”

“What I think is that you’re being weird,” Diego said.

“I’m not being weird,” Five said. “You’re the one being weird.”

“Yeah, that’s not a defense.”

“Might I remind you that one of us recently went on an impromptu vow of silence that solved nothing and made everything, as you say, weirder?”

“Holy shit, get off my damn ass about that,” Diego said, slapping the cold compress onto his knuckles. “I said I was sorry. And I’m done now. I promise, if I stutter while you’re blowing me again, I’ll keep talking and let you jerk off to it as much as you want.”

“You’ve reached the line where being an asshole isn’t charming anymore,” Five said.

“I’m not trying,” Diego said, “to be charming.”

There was a silence. 

“I didn’t come here intending to argue with you,” Five said.

Diego looked down. 

“I had a proposal for you, but if you won’t listen, I won’t tell you.”

“I’m listening,” Diego said, looking back up at him.

Five swallowed. He’d rehearsed this in his mind, in the shower, talking out loud in the car like he still had Delores with him, but now that Diego was in front of him, the words went slippery. Five cleared his throat.

“I would like to discuss some negotiations in our sex life,” he said.

Diego tilted his head. “Pardon?”

“I mean that I have some proposals and concepts to introduce,” Five said. “Not that I’m unhappy. But I’ve been considering—”

“Five,” Diego said. “You’re not defending a thesis. Tell me what you want to tell me, sweetheart.”

“Currently,” Five said, “when we, ah—”

“You want me to do the talking?” Diego said, interrupting him.

“No,” Five said.

“All right,” Diego said, holding up his hands. “All I’m sayin’ is you might wanna get that stutter checked out—”

“I would like to propose that we switch the dynamic,” Five said.

Diego raised his eyebrows.

“Temporarily,” Five added quickly. “I’m not unhappy with the current arrangement.”

“What exactly are you angling for?” Diego said. He gestured with his fingers. “I can see you thinking in there. Let it out, babe.”

“I’d like to take care of you for a change,” Five said.

The effect was immediate. Diego’s eyes widened for a fraction of a moment and then his face hardened. He looked down at the cold compress, picking at the edges.

“You know I appreciate what you do for me,” Five said. He tried to push away the awkwardness of the phrasing. If he started to second-guess himself, he’d crumble. “I would like to return the favor.”

“Why?” Diego said. “I got no interest in letting you baby me.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” Five said. 

“Wow,” Diego said, stepping back. “You need to take a minute?”

Five looked down at himself. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides and he was nearly vibrating, tense and coiled to strike. He hadn’t even noticed.

“When you’re with me,” Five said, “and you— when you—”

“When I what?” Diego said.

“Fine,” Five said, looking up at him. “Remember what we were doing, ah, the night you started stuttering?”

“Oh yeah,” Diego said. “You were so pretty for me, huh? You know, that’s the kind of shit I think about when I have two hands and it’s easier to—”

“Exactly,” Five interrupted him. “Do you think any less of me when you’re doing that?”

“When I’ve got you on your knees for me with a hand in your hair and I’m sweet-talking you?”

“Yes,” Five said. “When you’re— in control. Is it because you think I’m weak?”

“Nah, it’s not about that,” Diego said. “I know you could get up and kick my ass if you wanted.”

“I rest my case,” Five said.

Diego stood up. “That’s what you want to do for me, huh?”

“Yes,” Five said, following him over to the edge of the room.

“Hard pass, babe,” Diego said.

Five gritted his teeth. “May I ask why?”

“How are you gonna _dom_ me,” Diego said, “when you can’t even say the word?”

“It’s more than that,” Five said. The tension in Diego’s shoulders, the venom in his voice, the way his face twisted when he’d hit the wall with his knuckles. He wanted to lay his hands on him and smooth him out. “I didn’t say I wanted to dress in leather and order you around.”

Diego snorted. “It’d be cute if you tried.”

Five was at him in an instant, hands tight around his wrists.

“What I meant to say is that you clearly need more attention than I’ve been giving you,” he said. He leaned closer to Diego; let the pistol at his hip press against Diego’s thigh.

“What the hell?” Diego said.

“You’ve done more than enough for me,” Five said. He was close enough that he was sure Diego could feel his breath on his face. “Let me return the favor. And don’t try to tell me I’m making this up, Diego. I’ve slept in your bed. I’ve seen you walking and talking and holing yourself up in the gym to spend hours with the punching bag with only one good hand. You’re tense.” He let his thumb land on the pulse point on Diego’s wrist. “You’ve never even considered letting anyone tend to your wounds except your mother.”

Diego gasped. Five pressed his thumb into his wrist.

“You asked how I was going to dominate you,” he said. “I don’t think you need to be concerned about that. The question for you is when you’ll finally let yourself _submit_ to me.”

Diego made a broken sound.

“You don’t have to hide from me,” Five said. “I’ll never think less of you. And I did see you get down on your knees for me two days ago, you know.”

“That wasn’t a me thing,” Diego said. His voice was strained. “That was only because—”

“Because I told you to,” Five said, and he finally let his smile unfurl.

“Are you sure you can cook with your hand like that?” Vanya said, stifling a cough and taking a sip of her tea.

The kitchen at the Academy was a little too dim and a little too small for a group of people to all cook in simultaneously. Five was sitting at the table next to Vanya, who looked like death warmed over from the flu, and the presence of everybody was starting to raise his hackles. Luther had been the one to propose weekly dinners— they did all live in the city, at least most of them, and they were trying to be more civil these days, more like family, less like washed-up child soldiers. Diego had balked at the idea of making Grace bend over backwards to cook for them, and despite Five’s extremely pragmatic protests that Grace truly didn’t mind and the six of them were abysmal cooks, he’d been shot down. Tonight, Five and Diego had arrived to see Vanya sitting at the kitchen table bleary-eyed and red-nosed and Luther carefully chopping lettuce for a salad, and Allison and Klaus completely absent.

They were trying.

“I’m really sorry I can’t help out more,” Vanya said. “It’s this flu, it’s going around the whole orchestra. I don’t want you guys to get it.”

“No need to apologize for not infecting us with whatever you have,” Five said, edging his chair away from her as she coughed into her arm. “In fact, I believe I speak for everybody when I say that you could go up to your room and nobody would be offended. At all.”

“Well, we would miss you,” Luther said, but as Vanya coughed again, his brow furrowed. “Are you sure you’ll all right?”

“Get off her ass about that,” Diego said, turning on the burner on the stove. “Vanya’s an adult.”

“An adult with a contagious disease,” Five said.

“What happened to your hand, Diego?” Luther said, watching him at the stove.

Diego looked over his shoulder at him. The scar in his eyebrow looked particularly prominent as he gave Luther an appraising look. “Nothin’ you need to know about.”

“Diego,” Luther said.

“What are we even putting in this?” Diego said, looking down at the dozen eggs on the counter. “How is this a dinner for five people?”

“It’s a frittata,” Five said, getting up and heading to the fridge. “There’s supposed to be vegetables.”

“I don’t see any vegetables.”

“You drove me to the store. You are the eyewitness that I bought asparagus.”

“Luther probably ate it,” Diego said.

“Why do we have to do this?” Luther said. “Every week you tell me you’ll stop.”

“Every week I say sorry,” Diego said. “Never said anything about stopping.”

“Diego, there’s been asparagus in the refrigerator this entire time,” Five said, taking out a plastic bag and thrusting it at him.

“I could probably chop it if you gave me gloves?” Vanya said.

“No,” everybody said in unison.

“I’ll do it,” Diego said.

“But your hand,” Luther said.

“But minding your own business,” Diego said.

“But you’re already at the stove,” Five said, reaching into the cupboard for a cutting board, “so you might as well preheat the oven and melt the butter.”

They settled into an almost companionable silence. Five and Diego always had to psych each other into family bonding in any form, but honestly, sitting at the table and chopping asparagus into one-inch pieces wasn’t too bad. Diego was standing at the stove prodding butter in the pan, Luther was working at the salad, Vanya was huddled at her end of the table, and Five could appreciate the value of having everyone in the same room at the same time doing the same thing. 

Five was sweeping the chopped asparagus pieces into a bowl when Luther said, “So you’re still going out on the street?”

“Yeah,” Diego said, pouring out milk into the bowl with his good hand. “Crime doesn’t stop just because we fixed the apocalypse.”

“Fair,” Luther said. “I’m still looking for ways to use the moon data. It can’t not be useful.”

“I’d place more calls if I were you,” Five said. “You need to learn how to network.”

“I’m already working on just meeting more people,” Luther said. “Outside of the family, I don’t have many connections.”

“I still maintain that’s fixable,” Five said.

“All my contacts are police,” Diego said, “and most of them despise me, so I don’t know that if I hooked you up with any of them they’d wanna help you. Or that they’d know shit about the moon.”

“They despise you?” Vanya said.

“I slept with half of them and insulted the other half to their faces,” Diego said, screwing the cap back on the milk.

“Wow,” Vanya said. She coughed. “You’ve been around.”

“Yeah, I work better on my own,” Diego said. “But I can make a partnership work if I have to.”

Five pressed his lips together to keep from smiling when he saw Diego’s wink.

“What about you, Vanya?” Diego said, hefting the milk jug to the refrigerator and struggling to open the door. Five was halfway to his feet to help him when Diego got it open. “Same as ever?”

“Same as ever,” Vanya said. “Aside from getting their cold, I haven’t made much headway with orchestra people.”

“Hard to make contact with people,” Luther said, shaking his head.

“Have I played the apocalypse card yet today?” Five said.

“Holy shit, we know,” Diego said, bumping his hip against Five’s shoulder as he said it. Five could hear the smile in his voice. “You can give it a rest for a single day.”

“I didn’t use it yesterday,” Five said, teleporting to the sink with his cutting board and knife.

Luther was looking between Five and Diego. They’d never exactly told him anything, but they’d never exactly hidden it, either. Five figured that after the past few months, everyone had probably absorbed the unspoken message, and anyway, the thought of taking Diego’s hand in front of everyone and formally coming out as something-a-little-more-than-family gave him the urge to hurl himself off a cliff. 

“What were you going to say?” Vanya said.

“Only that I spend thirty years wandering in a world that was a burning shell of the one we live in as I slowly went insane without the opportunity to hear another living voice,” Five said.

“There he goes,” Diego said. “Hey, last man on Earth, get me the parmesan cheese.”

Five threw him a look, hoping to convey that if Diego wasn’t injured there would be no way he could get Five to do his bidding.

“What kind of people do you go after, anyway?” Luther asked Diego as Five brought him the bag of cheese.

“Muggers,” Diego said. “People trying to hold up a store, sometimes. Violent criminals, extremely rarely, but memorable when it happens.”

“So which one got your hand?” Luther said.

“Why d’you wanna know?” Diego said, shaking cheese into the bowl with one hand. “You thinking of going into the vigilante business? I gotta say, big man, I don’t think you could handle the whole subtlety aspect.”

“I don’t like seeing you all beaten up,” Luther said.

“If this is what you think ‘all beaten up’ looks like, don’t look at me for a week after a boxing match,” Diego said, turning back to the counter. “Or after Five gets his hands on me.”

“Stop,” Five said sharply.

“I’m taking preventative measures,” Diego said, holding up his hands. “So next week Luther won’t be like ‘Diego, what happened to your neck?’”

“I know what a love bite looks like, Diego,” Luther said.

“I’m sorry,” Diego said, “did you just say _love bite?”_

“If you’re this intent on being the center of attention, you can stop talking and make us a frittata,” Five snapped, turning away. The backs of his ears were burning. He wasn’t in the mood to be shown off like Diego’s trophy brother. Or something. He felt discombobulated.

“Can you get me the eggs?” Diego said as Five walked past the fridge.

His voice was a little sharp. Five took a deep breath and told himself that Diego was probably just pissed over having to lie to Luther about his hand.

“Yes,” he said, “but I don’t like your tone.”

“Wow,” Diego said. “All right. Can you get me the eggs?”

His voice was sugary now and infinitely worse. Five gritted his teeth and yanked open the refrigerator door and handed them to him, without a word.

“Thank you,” Diego said.

He sounded sincere. Five inclined his head at him and turned away, only to hear Luther say, “Do you need me to help with that?”

“Nope,” Diego said.

Five turned around. Diego had gotten the egg carton open on the counter and Five watched as he picked up an egg. He tried to hit it on the edge of the bowl and the bowl slid away from him. Five and Luther both watched as he gritted his teeth and held the bowl steady with his other arm and held up the egg.

“Careful,” Five said.

“You don’t need to tell me to be careful,” Diego said, and Five caught one glimpse of his white knuckles before he shattered the entire egg against the bowl.

There was silence. Diego looked down at the egg dripping down into his sleeve.

“I can take them,” Luther said quietly, and Diego moved wordlessly to wash his hand in the sink. The next time Five turned to look for him, he was gone.

When Five appeared in the passenger seat of Diego’s car, Diego was sitting motionless in the driver’s seat, hands up on the steering wheel, forehead pressed between them.

“I’m relieved you haven’t gone to break your other hand yet,” Five said.

“Don’t,” Diego said, without looking at him.

Five inclined his head. “Apologies.”

Diego clicked his tongue. “Doesn’t matter.”

Five let the silence rest for a moment, and then he said, “Everything’s fine in there, by the way.”

“Glad Luther could step in to save the day,” Diego said. “Always good to know I’m not needed.”

“You know Luther doesn’t hold it against you.”

“Sure he doesn’t.”

“Vanya doesn’t hold it against you either,” Five said. “And Allison and Klaus weren’t even there. And God knows I don’t care, Diego. It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me,” Diego said, sitting back in his seat. He stabbed his finger in the air. “It matters to me that everybody saw me standing there, egg all over my fucking hand— it matters that Luther asked me how I fucked up my hand and I can’t tell him because it was my fault, and it matters that you’re sitting here just waiting to gloat about how right you are—”

“That’s not why it matters that I’m sitting here,” Five said.

“I don’t need you to sit here,” Diego said, “because none of this is your fault. You don’t have to fix my shit for me.”

“I never said I was going to fix anything,” Five said.

Diego looked up at him.

“I have every faith that you can clean up your own messes,” Five said, leaning back. “I’d be offended if you thought I was coddling you.”

He let that hang in the air. Diego said nothing.

“You broke an egg,” Five said.

Diego shot him a look. “That’s what you came here to remind me?”

“There were three dozen eggs in the refrigerator when I checked for the asparagus,” Five said. “You broke one, Diego. There are more than enough left.”

“It’s not even about that,” Diego said, cracking the knuckles on his good hand. “It’s—”

“Tell me,” Five said.

“Nothing,” Diego said, closing his eyes. 

The streetlamps cast a golden glow on him inside the car, catching on the pearly line of his scar. Five watched him, and he was struck by the image of Diego powered down, macho facade dormant, from the nicks on his face to his soft, parted lips.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Diego said. “Something’s off with me lately. I gotta get it under control.”

“Well,” Five said, “I’d be truly shocked if you figured it out tonight.”

“I’m not going back in there,” Diego said.

“I didn’t say you had to,” Five said. He hesitated. “I can take your mind off it, if you want.”

Diego looked at him. Five met his eyes as the moment stretched inside the car. He could see the warring impulses of pride and exhaustion in Diego’s eyes, the internal memory of their previous conversation, or he was imagining it all and deluding himself, because Diego’s face was impenetrable.

Diego reached into his pocket and dropped his keys into Five’s hand.

“Take me home,” he said.

The moment the door of the boiler room closed Five found himself tangled in Diego, awash in the texture and scent of him, fabric, leather, sweat, the sound of his breathing. He could feel his pulse pounding. “Tell me what you want,” he said, hooking a finger under the strap of Diego’s harness.

“Anything,” Diego gasped. “Want you all over me, baby—”

Five kissed him. Diego’s mouth opened for him effortlessly and Five grabbed him, sliding his hands under his sweater to press against his warm skin, thumb rubbing over the twisted gunshot scar in his side. Diego made a broken-off noise.

“Off,” Five said, tugging at his sweater.

“In a sec,” Diego said, leaning in for Five’s lips again. “I wanna—”

_“Now.”_

Five stepped back, folding his arms over his chest as he watched Diego unbuckle his knife harness.

“Someday you’ll keep that on for me,” he said.

Diego stopped. “You want me to?”

“Not tonight.”

“All right,” Diego said. He sounded breathless. “Making a mental note, Five’s a kinky bastard—”

“I said take it off,” Five said, and Diego nodded, tossing his harness to the ground and pulling his sweater over his head. Five let himself admire his bare torso. He stepped forward, rewarding Diego with a kiss, before he pulled back.

“What now?” Diego said. “You’re callin’ the shots, baby.”

“Get on the bed,” Five said, reaching for the buttons of his own shirt.

“On the bed how?” Diego said. “How are we gonna— should I be getting myself ready, or—”

Five dropped his shirt to the floor and looked him in the eye. “I want you on the bed, clothes off, cock in your hand, getting yourself worked up while you think about how I’m going to ride you.”

Diego stared at him. “Damn. Talking dirty’s a good look on you.”

“You told me to elaborate,” Five said. “Is that clear enough for you?”

“Crystal,” Diego said, giving him a salute and reaching for the fly of his jeans.

Five pulled his undershirt off and tossed it on the floor. Socks, pants, underwear, off, off, off. The new body hadn’t stopped looking foreign yet. He’d eternally be grateful that he wasn’t trapped at thirteen anymore, but he certainly never felt the need to look in the mirror for too long. When Diego had him in his hands he always made sure to lavish attention on him, kissing his pale collarbone, tweaking his nipple, telling him how pretty he looked, how perfect he was for him.

Five looked over. Diego had laid himself down on the bed, naked and flawless, spread out for Five like a luxury. He had a pillow propped under his back and he was looking Five up and down, cock hard in his hand, tongue between his teeth like he was taking a good, long look at him, and Five felt like he was an ant burning under a magnifying glass.

“What?” Diego said, catching Five looking at him. “You gonna deprive me of this view? Best sight I can imagine.”

Five rolled his eyes. He got himself ready, methodically and quickly, propelled by Diego’s heated gaze and the twist in his gut at the thought of taking care of him, not pitying him but working on him, at him, for him, and before he knew it he was straddling Diego’s thighs and lowering himself down on his cock. Diego gasped. Five let himself smile; let himself grind in slow circles and note how Diego’s fists clenched. He’d never met a task he couldn’t excel at, after all.

Diego was quiet, for once. Five was used to his patter during sex, _sweetheart_ and _angel_ and _you gonna blow me or sit there looking constipated?_ and the entire language of sounds that conveyed more than words, but as he ground down on Diego’s cock, all he could hear was the hiss of the boiler and Diego’s tight, heavy breathing. 

“Tell me how it feels,” Five said.

“I got you riding on my dick,” Diego said. “How do you think it feels?”

“Tell me,” Five said, bracing his hands by Diego’s shoulders and leaning over him. “Is this what you think about in the morning when you’re jacking yourself off in the shower?”

“In the ballpark, yeah,” Diego said. His voice was starting to get strained.

“You should let me take you home one of these nights,” Five said. “Sleep in my bed, wake up and—”

“Isn’t your bed a twin?”

Five pinched his nipple. Diego yelped.

“The point,” Five said, letting his fingers go and trying not to look too smug, “is that I have a private bathroom with a shower big enough for two.”

“Twin bed,” Diego said.

“A shower that’s not in a locker room.”

“Twin fucking bed, sweetheart,” Diego said, and he laughed when Five twisted his nipple again, letting his head fall back. “You’d have to sleep on top of me.”

“A tragedy,” Five said. “I can’t imagine what it would be like to wake up with you clutching onto me like a baby blanket. Completely beyond the scope of anything I’ve ever experienced before.”

“You know, I think I’m gonna retract my earlier statement and say I like you better when you’re just getting fucked and you’re not talking,” Diego said, and he gasped as Five ground down on him, shuddering as Five rolled his hips in slow, torturous circles.

“You don’t look half-bad speechless yourself,” Five said.

Diego didn’t even respond. His eyes were half-lidded and sweat was starting to bead at his hairline, and Five let himself revel in the tremors of Diego’s thighs under him, the heat of his skin, the part of his lips—he’d taken him apart, Five realized. He’d done it. Diego was gone for him, all pretense drained away, desperate and shaking, gorgeous and debauched, and Five’s stomach twisted as he looked down at his perfect body.

Five reached down and pressed a hand to Diego’s chest, over his heart. 

“You’re close, aren’t you?” he said.

Diego nodded.

“Let go,” Five said, and he lifted Diego’s bruised hand to his mouth and kissed the sensitive skin of his knuckles. Diego’s fist clenched and then he was coming, body rigid, trembling and hot, under him and around him and inside him. Five wasn’t about to last long. He had a hand around his cock in an instant and stroking himself furiously— Diego was loose under him, muscles relaxed, finally, eyes soft, face open, those lips— and he bit back a cry, arching his back, as he came in stripes over Diego’s chest.

“You got a talent,” Diego said, catching Five as he climbed off his cock.

“Was I right about the switching?” Five said.

“You know, I almost don’t want to let you have this,” Diego said, slinging an arm around him and pulling him in close. “This doesn’t leave this room, by the way.”

“Of course,” Five said, leaning his cheek against his arm.

“But you were right,” Diego said.

“I know,” Five said.

There was a silence. Five closed his eyes. The boiler popped and hissed, air warm, and Diego’s breathing was slow now, finally relaxed.

“I guess I can be a little bossy, huh?” Diego said.

“You can,” Five said, opening his eyes.

“I’ll try to be a little nicer. Less of a cocky bastard for a change. I’m working on it.”

“Diego,” Five said, “look who you’re talking to. I don’t mind if you’re a cocky bastard.”

“Yeah, but I know you draw the line somewhere.”

Five looked up at the ceiling. He had a feeling that he’d better weigh his words carefully.

“I want honesty,” he said. “I’m not saying I enjoyed watching you smash your hand against a concrete wall, but the part of the whole affair that bothered me most was the silent treatment.”

“That’s fair,” Diego said. “I’m not… I don’t know. You know I’m not good at this shit.”

“You could be worse,” Five said. “And I’m a realist, Diego. I know you need space. We both do. But…”

“But we’ll talk about it next time,” Diego said, stretching. “Doesn’t have to be a whole negotiation twenty-four seven, but yeah, I get it. And I could take a break from being on top for a while, huh?”

Five coughed. “Not too long a break.”

“Insatiable,” Diego said, ruffling his hair. “You’d take me any which way, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?”

“I’ve certainly never been disappointed by you.”

“We’ll take turns,” Diego said. “You can draw us up a calendar.”

“A calendar?” Five said.

“That’s the kind of pedantic-but-horny shit that you eat right up, isn’t it?”

“I’m not making us a calendar,” Five said.

“You sure?”

“Without a doubt,” Five said. The air hung warm and thick like another blanket, and Diego was solid and nearly magnetic in the way he drew Five to him. Five’s body felt well-fucked and languid, and he was starting to think he wasn’t inclined to move ever again.

“I don’t need anything more,” Five said, “than I have right here.”

**Author's Note:**

> [electra-xt](https://electra-xt.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr, taking prompts, come talk to me about TUA!


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